


Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Richie

by hypnoidvoid



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Artist Richie Tozier, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Roommates, omg, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 22:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16880511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoidvoid/pseuds/hypnoidvoid
Summary: Being a lawyer ain’t easy. You’ve got to be a pristine, sharp, educated bitch to make it in that scornful field. Eddie fits these requirements, but as his new tenant makes residence in his household, he throws the law book aside and lets loose a little bit. Artists have that effect on people, don’t they?





	Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Richie

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt: Reddie as roommates and realizing that holy fuck they’re in love and need to make out like right now
> 
> This was so much fun to write, thank you anon xoxoxo. Enjoy my Reddie first meet fluff, and wow, Sonia isn’t a complete shithead! What?!

One call, he could ignore.

 

Two calls, he could ignore.

 

But when his phone heinously vibrated from the inside of his suit jacket for the third time, there was no avoiding picking up the cellphone he hated so fucking much. He didn’t hate the phone itself, he just loathed that anyone at any time of the day had the capability of getting ahold of him. Sometimes he wished pagers were still a thing, ya know? They were so unreliable and stupid. _Stupid_ looking, _stupid_ in their function, everything about them was downright laughable. Cellphones, unfortunately, were not.

 

Eddie checked the time on his retired pocket watch, then irritably shoved his hand in his pocket to retrieve his phone. Of course it was her. It was always her.

 

“Ma, seriously, I told you I’m hosting a work benefit tonight. I can’t talk right no-”

 

“I know honey, you said this a million times, but-”

 

“Is the house on fire?” Eddie could hear someone obnoxiously pounding on a door over the line.

 

Sonia arrogantly huffed into the receiver, “No it’s not. That’s rude honey, I’m not dim.”

 

Eddie’s eyes scanned the room half-tuned into the call with the phone huddled close to his cheek, “Are you having a heart attack then?”

 

On the other side of Sonia’s front door, a man jubilantly shouted, “Am I at the right address? Y’ello? Perdón for being late Kaspbraks!”

 

“ _Enough_ with the tone Edward, no, I certainly am not-”

 

“Then what is it that is so important that you need to talk to me right this minute? I should be greeting guests— guests that could earn me that promotion, _remember_?”

 

Squinting an eye to look through the peephole of her front door, she skittishly whispered, “I think the new tenant is here… you did all the background checks on him, right? He’s a good man? No history of crime or smoking drugs? Hasn’t been fired from a job? Is he Christian?”

 

Eddie put a hand over his phone to raise an apologetic hand to his boss that eyed him with the ferocity of a hawk, and not at all joyous that he was taking a call, “I’m sorry Sir, it’s my mother, she’s having one of her  _‘episodes'_.”

 

“Make it quick, Kaspbrak. Time is money, and we need to impress with every minute we have. _You_ need to impress.”

 

Sharply returning to the call, Eddie iterated with a peeved sting, “Ma he’s fine, trust me. Just let him in. I’ll help you with the logistics when I get home. His name is Richard Tozier, and be nice, _please_. We need him to stay, pay rent, okay?”

 

“Okay, but be home as soon as you can. I need you here, Eddie Bear.”

 

“Mhm,” and Eddie briskly hung up the phone call.

 

For the remainder of the night, Eddie jestfully welcomed guests of different law firms and their pristinely dressed dates into their annual Ball. Lawyers were a tough crowd, and he needed his wits to be acute, charm to be convincing, and above all, his boss to notice that he was indubitably accommodating. Having to be on guard for so many hours was tedious, but Eddie managed, and succeeded without a nick of an under extraordinary presentation. His boss, who packaged about 400 pounds of fatty meat on to his skeleton and rarely smiled, sported a smirk towards the end of the event.

 

“Ed, I must say, you performed with utmost professionalism tonight. I’m impressed. Good work,” and he stuck out his jeweled hand to shake Eddie’s before being the second to last person to leave the venue, besides Eddie.

 

Fashioning a small smile himself, Eddie proudly took his outstretched hand, “Thank you Sir.”

 

Eddie maintained his composure all through the event, cleaning up the venue, calmly walking to his car in the backlit parking structure, even sitting in his driver’s seat for a resonating minute to absorb fresh air, until he locked both doors of his Toyota Camry, bumped the radio to the pop station it had been on last, and shrieked with more happiness than a high school cheerleader at a homecoming pep rally. He sped home 20mph above the speed limit to make it home in a dangerously fast time, and slammed his key into the lock.

 

“MA, I THINK I’M GETTING THAT PROMOTIO-”

 

“Well hey there roomy,” an unfamiliar voice crooned from the dining room table with a mouth full of food.

 

Sonia poked her head out from the kitchen and smiled at her son, “You were much later than I thought you were going to be, young man.”

 

His face dropped with mild embarrassment in front of their guest, or now, resident, “Ma, I’m 27.”

 

“What a coinkydink, me too! Edward, is it?” The dude sitting at his table spat nonchalantly. His black, curly hair sprung wildly in all directions, but Eddie had no problem finding his eyes, for they were magnified a goofy amount behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. They may have been kind of ridiculous looking, but he also thought they were, well, _cute_. They complemented his exaggerated features, obvious even upon a first meeting.

 

Eddie cautiously, yet amusedly, took off his suit coat and hung it on the door, along with his work bag and hat, “Yeah that’s me. You’re the new tenant, correct?”

 

“Yerp, and I must say Edwardo, your mama makes a wonderful pasta dinner,” and he winked at Sonia with a noodle hanging out of his mouth.

 

Sonia blushed, “You were right, Eddie Bear. Richie is a delight, he’ll make a wonderful addition to the house.”

 

Eddie had never seen his mother take so kindly to a stranger. Let alone another man since his father passed a year ago. It soothed his heart to know that whatever conversation and interaction that they had had while he was gone had been seamlessly pleasant. _Especially_ if this stranger was going to be living with them.

 

“Would you like some spaghetti?” His mother sweetly asked. She was never this off guard, this cordial. This man must be a fucking snake charmer; and not just for cobras, but for black mambas. Eddie hoped he stayed forever if she was going to settle into this demeanor longer than for a nightfall.

 

“No, I’m okay I ate at the event. But, I’ll take a glass of wine. It’s been a long ass day.”

 

“ _Language_ ,” Sonia reprimanded.  

 

Eddie chuckled, “Again, I’m 27 Ma. C’mon.”

 

Sonia scowled, but didn’t reprimand him any further. Richie sniggered and raised his eyebrows while nodding at Eddie, mockingly in agreeance with his mother.

 

Taking a seat next to the new tenant, his new roommate really, he shuffled his chair forward and sipped from his glass of chardonnay peacefully while listening to the stories Richie had to tell, and always with a full mouth of food or drink. As the minutes passed, Eddie found himself laughing, intrinsically relating, and genuinely enjoying himself with the newcomer’s company. Not only did Richie seem intelligent, despite being very much so outspoken but in that delightful uncontroversial way that just drew giggles of surprise, but Richie was also familiar. He was a friend Eddie wished he had been introduced to in youth. Perhaps, growing up would have been easier and more congenial with someone like Richie around.

 

Turns out Richie was a muralist, and a quite talented one.

 

He birthed street paintings, personal art pieces that he sold on occasion, as well as created professional murals that he had been commissioned to complete. Some of his art glossened museum halls, and some riddled freeway passes. The profession explained the random blobs of color on his jeans, his boots, the flecks of turquoise that infiltrated deep within his curls, but most importantly, it reflected his unique acceptance of change. After all, it mustn't have been easy for a stranger to move into another stranger’s house in a small town that he presumably had never stayed in for a long period of time. Most artists were impulsive, and Richie was no exception; but it also made him exciting.

 

Soon enough, Sonia waddled upstairs and fell into her normal hibernation, leaving Richie and Eddie to clean up the dishes. Without any kind of verbalization, Eddie starting washing the plates and pans, while Richie dried them. Everything went slickity smooth until Richie started probing the front of his gapped teeth with his fingernails, and drying at the same time.

 

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie sneered, but without hostile malice.  

 

“What? How else are the little herb pieces going to get out of my teeth?” Richie sniggered.

 

“Ever heard of floss?”

 

“Nope. Never.” The smugness of his remark melted off his tongue and onto Eddie’s soaped hands. It was tangible.

 

“I’ll introduce you two later,” Eddie smirked, even though he didn’t want to; fighting it was more difficult than he thought. Richie’s childish nature made him smile with the shameful effect a fart joke would have on him. The immaturity was deviant, idiotic, but not smiling at a fart joke meant that you grew up into an actual adult. Which Eddie, and Richie, both still held onto the same childish antics no matter where they were in life. It kept them young, even if they didn’t realize it.  

 

After the last dish was properly dried and put away, Richie squirmed up on to the counter, “Hey, wanna watch a movie? Your mom said you had Netflix. I haven’t had access to Netflix in months.” He anticipatingly swung his gangly legs back and forth, hitting the cabinets below.

 

Eddie exhaustedly loosened his tie and made his way up the stairs, “Not tonight, I’m pooped.”

 

“Be pooped on the couch watching a movie with me,” Richie flashed a harmless, flirtatious grin that Eddie simply couldn’t say no to. He wanted to smack himself in the forehead for being so easily cooed. But that smile was a gem. There was nothing like it he had ever seen, both in its inviting appearance, and its kittenish display. Eddie’s eyes twinkled, admiring Richie in his purest state atop that counter.

 

Faltering up the stairs, Eddie asked, “.....what movie?”

 

Despite his hesitance, he was cheering inside that there was someone in his house, potentially a new friend, that wanted to hang out with him. Eddie was a popular business associate, an established lawyer, but didn't have many friends. He had a few like Mike and Ben, but other than that, not really. Eddie thought himself to be friend material, but friendships are hard to establish and maintain. Although, when he found someone that he thought was enticing enough to invite into his private life, to share those intimacies and shortcomings, and bellied laughs, it was well worth the work.

 

Richie rubbed his stubbled chin in contemplation as if he hadn’t already picked the movie in his head hours ago, “Beetlejuice.”

 

 _Fuck_. Eddie loved that movie. He didn’t have a taste for true horror films, or gore, but silly spooky films? Sign him the fuck up, even in the midst of December.

 

“Deal,” and Eddie ran upstairs to change his clothes into something more comfortable, while Richie did the same and set up the movie. No one gave him directions on how to use the television, but luckily he was intuitive enough to be able to figure out the system.

 

When Eddie hopped down the steps in an oversized red hoodie and shorts, Richie’s swallow got stuck in his throat and he had to cough to breathe rightly. As much as Eddie thought Richie was initially endearing, so did Richie. Richie, maybe even more so, where his widened eyes behind his glasses made it dreadfully conspicuous. And Richie had met a lot of men, and women, in his nomadic travels. None had quite taken his breath away with the likeness that his new roommate had, however.  

 

Even with an obstruct stranger, Eddie felt comfortable to trot around his house in his chosen ‘pajamas’; they were more like underwear from the bottom half down. He made his way into the kitchen once more and poured himself another glass of wine, “Want some?”

 

Richie’s eyes were glued to Eddie’s calves. They traced up his defined calves to his exposed thighs, and lingered there for enough time for Eddie to turn around and ask the question again after moments without an answer.

 

“Wine! Yes. Yes, I want vino.”

 

“How many languages can you butcher,” Eddie lightly laughed, pouring wine.

 

“All of them, d’ahling.”

 

Eddie plopped himself on the couch at the opposite end of the couch from Richie with his glass of wine and handed Richie his. He stretched his legs out for his feet to barely touch Richie’s side, and twiddled his toes purposefully to draw attention.

 

They guzzled the rest of the bottle of chardonnay. Then popped open a second, bringing it to the couch rather than leaving it on the kitchen counter. Then a third, where they neglected the glasses and began sharing swigs straight from the bottle. Undoubtedly, they paid more attention to each other than they did the movie. As _Beetlejuice_ came to a close, Eddie had his legs over Richie’s lap while his elbows propped up the rest of his body to hold respectful eye contact. Lawyers were good at that.

 

Close to drunk, Eddie garbled while snuggling deeper into his own sweatshirt, “I’m glad _you_ , mhm, _you_ are the tenant we picked. Could’a been worse.”

 

Richie gently laid his body down next to Eddie’s and nearly purred, “Me too, Eds. I knew some deity would one day let me cuddle next to an actual god.”

 

Eddie jostled his head without opening his eyes, “Eds? The fuck?”

 

“You need a ‘specially cute name, for a cute boy like you.”

 

Humming, Eddie agreed, “Yeah, guess ya right.”

 

They laid as one unit for the ending credits, with Richie cuddling Eddie’s backside warmly. Yeah they had been strangers, but now, not so much much.

 

Shuffling his butt back into Richie, Eddie tremored with a stifled laugh, “This is gay. Very gay.”

 

“I fuckin’ hope so,” and Richie had wormed high enough to exhale into the back of Eddie’s head with his arms curled around Eddie’s waist on the couch.

 

“Hey, I’m a lawyer.”

 

“ _Yeah_ , a gay lawyer. An acclaimed, gay, cute lawyer.”

 

Eddie never let men talk to him like this. It often lead to him feeling belittled and ridiculed. But here, he didn’t mind; Richie was unexpectedly respectful. He felt appreciated, praised, worshipped even. The man called him a god!

 

“And what are you?”

 

“A bisexual, painted demon with angelic tastes.”

 

Eddie’s heart leapt at hearing ‘bisexual’. At least he knew now that these lingering touches, burning glances, huddled limbs, all of them weren’t a straight man leading him on into queer baited oblivion stemmed from their insecurity and loneliness. And somehow, he knew this before Richie had even exposed himself. Being a gay man himself, he felt his gaydar was unmatched.

 

“Liar,” Eddie snarked.

 

Eddie could feel Richie’s mouth spread open into a grin at the back of his blonde waves, even without seeing him, “Beetlejuice.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

 

“Bettlejas.”

 

Squirming from out of Richie’s grasp, Eddie threatened, “DON’T.”

 

“ _BWEETLEJOOS_!” Richie began to unmercifully tickle Eddie until they were both sprawled on the floor. As much as Richie would have liked to admit that he held control, Eddie was surprisingly much stronger and crawled on top of Richie to easily pin him down by both arms.

 

“Checkmate, fucker.”

 

“ _Language_ , Edward,” Richie satirically chided, mimicking Sonia.

 

Eddie fixed his dominant position, only narrowing his eyes with a devious snarl ready to burst from his lips. He scooted his hips higher on Richie’s torso, and tightened the clench his thighs held. Richie’s glasses were dreadfully crooked atop his forehead and he blindly looked up at Eddie with aroused charm, “Unfair! We weren’t even playing chess!”

 

Eddie quivered and bit his bottom lip, looking at Richie under him. At the table, Eddie couldn’t see that Richie’s eyes were a dark blue, he couldn’t see just how freckled all of Richie’s skin was, couldn’t see the unplanned scars from past endeavors on his arms, and couldn’t see just how beautiful Richie was in his untraditionally, handsome exterior. He wasn’t clean cut, not even slightly, but he didn’t need to be. Richie was a perfect person, even in his imperfections. Having intimate interaction with Richie consequently humbled Eddie, a man prestigious in his practice, who realized there really was more to learn from someone who didn’t have a PhD.

 

He knew he shouldn’t have. It was stupid, stupid as that fucking pager. For once, he didn't think of the repercussions and just went with his gut. Lawyers _didn’t_ do that.

 

He lowered his body to press a gentle peck to Richie’s lips.

 

Silence.

 

As Eddie pulled away, Richie’s eyes were mirror reflective with glossiness. Whether it was from not having his glasses, the alcohol, or bewildered lust, his pupils enlarged to make his blue irises nonexistent. Eddie panickingly stammered and started to move off of Richie, “I- I’m so sorry, that was so uncalled fo-”

 

Richie quickly shoved his glasses off of his forehead and snaked his arms out from under Eddie’s limped hold to pull him back down onto his chest, “No, _I’m_ sorry. I wish I was the first one to kiss you.” He lifted a hand to cradle Eddie’s neck and wove fingers into loose strands of blonde waves, pressing a passionate kiss to Eddie’s lips. The heat shared between bodies was overwhelming, singing their skin even underneath clothing. Eddie relaxed on top of Richie and  allowed himself to indulge in what Richie was was gifting him. He melted into the arms around him, a tongue willingly exploring his mouth, and welcomed the large hands sliding up and down his sides.

 

Netflix queued up a similar movie after _Beetlejuice_ had finished by its best algorithm, being _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. Richie and Eddie took no notice, even if it had been a favored movie between both of them that they hadn’t discovered yet. One day they would come to realization.

 

They rolled around on the shag carpet under a tangled blanket, trading unspoken messages of wetness between kisses and sweated groping, only pulling away when air was absolutely necessary to take in. With his hood shading a portion of his face, now under Richie, Eddie teasingly persuaded, “I know you have a bed down here, but want to stay in my room tonight?”

 

“I don’t know, that bleak room all by myself is really callin’ mah name.”

 

“The grey walls are super welcoming, I know,” Eddie sarcastically remarked, jerking up to press a kiss to Richie’s nose.  

 

Richie patted the front of his mouth thoughtfully, “I think…. I think I would like to get familiar with your room.”

 

Tying one of the blankets around his neck like a cape and lifting himself off of Eddie’s body, he held out his hand. Eddie happily took his hand and hastily lead him up to his bedroom.

 

Eddie was pleased with his choice of new roommate.

 

Little did he know at the time though, that this artsy, childish roommate of his would remain to be his ‘roommate’ for the rest of his life.


End file.
